


No Big Deal

by SultrySandwich



Category: Rick and Morty, おそ松さん | Osomatsu-san (Anime)
Genre: Breakup Fic, Choromatsu gets married and becomes proper, F/M, M/M, Osomatsu is bad at communication, You don't need to have seen Rick and Morty to understand this, sad end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:16:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SultrySandwich/pseuds/SultrySandwich
Summary: With the thing he'd been avoiding now embedded in his mind, actually enjoying the afterglow was impossible, but Osomatsu’s one superpower had always been pretending huge problems were NBD.Osomatsu and Choromatsu break up for good.
Relationships: Matsuno Choromatsu/Matsuno Osomatsu, Matsuno Choromatsu/Summer Smith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	No Big Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! Writing is addicting, I wrote the whole first draft for this on my phone while at work. This was cathartic to make for personal reasons, but I hope you like my version of Osomatsu suffering for his crimes against other people. 
> 
> Like it says in the tags, the Rick and Morty crossover situation is more for my own giggles than it is important to the story. This is readable just as an Osomatsu-san fic.
> 
> One final note, there's a brief mention of someone having COVID. I didn't want to give away the gag, but I also didn't want to spring it unexpectedly
> 
> Please enjoy!

He was in the middle of riding Choromatsu when he realized he was out of time. The muscles in his legs were burning and his feet slipped against the polyester of the love hotel's sheets as he tried to get his bearings, made especially difficult by the way Choromatsu was bouncing him in his lap like a basketball. 

"Osomatsu-niisan, ahh, nnn," he shoved upward and nearly knocked him off balance.

With the thing he'd been avoiding now embedded in his mind, actually enjoying the afterglow was impossible, but Osomatsu’s one superpower had always been pretending huge problems were NBD.

One of Choromatsu's hands snaked to his front. "You're getting fat here you know," he pinched a nipple.

"Haa, yeah, I'm so lazy," he offered some self deprecation freely. Maybe reminding Choromatsu how shitty he was would make this easier.

The hand continued its groping. "I'll have to get you a secretary outfit. I'll mail it to you if you promise to take pictures." He snuggled up close to Osomatsu’s back and sighed happily.

This sucked.

"Did you like your going away present?" he asked, in reference to letting him top for once. 

"Mmhm, so much."

"I'm glad," he said, and he was. 

The sweat on them cooled, and Osomatsu tried to get his house in order. He'd been practicing and preparing and procrastinating this moment for two months now. There was no way to do it without everything going to shit. He would just have to deliver the blow as softly as possible. 

No big deal. No big deal. No big deal. 

"Listen, Choromatsu, I've got something to tell you. It's the last part of your going away present." 

"Ohh?" he spooned closer and tried to slide his arms around Osomatsu's middle, but he shimmied out of his grasp. "What is it?" 

Osomatsu propped himself up on his elbow and tried to do the honorable thing and look into his lover's eyes. This was it; he was atoning for a lifetime of selfishness with this single selfless act. He wanted to face the music like a grown up but he was suddenly neck-deep in the realization that he really didn't want to fucking do this. 

Choromatsu was too perceptive. His little V smile inverted. "What's wrong?" 

Osomatsu lifted his own hand and made a little sprinkling motion, like he was dusting Choromatsu with glitter. "Poof. You're free. You don't have to worry about me ever again."

"Eh? I'll always worry about you."

Osomatsu chewed on his lip. "I mean, you're single again! I'm setting you free. You can finally get a real girlfriend. Bring her home and make us all jealous, okay?" he punctuated this with a little laugh, but Choromatsu's frown was growing. 

"I...don't want a girlfriend," he said shakily.

"Do you even hear yourself?" Maybe tough love would get his message through. "I've corrupted you. Choromatsu would never say that. Doesn't it sound fun? You can go on dates with all sorts of American girls now." 

"Are you breaking up with me?" his voice cracked, and his eyes started filling up. "W-we've been doing stuff for like three years, I thought..." he wobbled, and sniffed a little. 

He was right, it had been three years and about a month. The anniversary of their first time had just passed recently, but Osomatsu pretended not to remember that, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He had no idea what Choromatsu thought of them and their relationship. They'd said lots of stuff in all that time, but Osomatsu knew better than anybody else that words and promises were just that, words and promises.

"Is this a prank? If it is, it's really mean...I'm sorry I called you fat earlier," he was kind of starting to cry while talking, and sounded like he didn't believe the words as he said them. 

"Ah, no, it's not a prank."

"Then why?" His lip trembled. 

Osomatsu resisted the urge to pat and comfort him, not wanting to send a mixed message, and settled for pushing the box of tissues from the night stand into his hands. He was feeling numb, it was a little weird to watch his younger brother get his heart torn out, only to reach into himself and find an empty void. He had a suspicion his heart would make him pay for it in interest later, but right now any pain was sealed behind a six foot steel door. "I told you already, so you can get a wife! You'll get a degree, and then a job, so all you need is a wife, and you'll be all graduated from being a NEET. You can find somebody hot, and ah, have some kids I guess." He scrunched up his face and imagined this, distancing himself further from his own role in the situation. "It'd be so funny if you had sextuplets." 

"...that's not your choice to make, stupid. I don't want that." 

Osomatsu seized his flushed face with both hands. "Listen. Do what onii-chan says, okay?" This was obviously not the right move, because an open mouthed sob wrenched out of Choromatsu's throat. "Nobody's gonna hire a guy that fucks his brother." 

"You... don't like me anymore, because I won't be a NEET?"

"Ah, uh," That wasn't right, but Osomatsu lacked the vocabulary and presence of mind to articulate this. "Yeah," he said lamely. "When you get all proper, you won't want to look for bugs or get in fistfights in a ditch outside the mall. So I'll keep doing that stuff, and you'll do your thing, and it'll all be okay. You'll be bored of me so fast once you leave so I'm, uh," he waved his hand vaguely, "Planning ahead. You always said I should do that more." 

"Some fucking planning! You, you waited until the night before? You waited until after we...came here a-and...?" 

"Hey, coming here wasn't my idea!" he snapped, feeling defensive suddenly. 

_Choromatsu had pulled him aside, down the dark street, away from his own going-away party that contained all their friends and neighbors, holding his hand and laughing as they followed the familiar road to the red light district. The moon was halfway full, a waxing gibbous, and he only knew because Choromatsu had explained it to him._

The first pang of actual sadness snuck up on him. He sucked on his teeth and watched Choromatsu cry himself out as he fumbled around on the floor for his clothes, and willed the damn emotion back into the vault where it came from. "I tried to do it earlier, okay? Can you blame me for not wanting to?" 

"You don't have to do it at all! We can still, I know long distance is hard, but there's technology, I'd call you all the time -" 

"I don't want you to call me all the time." 

"Stupid, stupid, stupid Osomatsu-niisan!" he hiccuped, and a whole lot of tears spilled out. 

"Yeah, that's me." 

"You don't love me?" 

What an unfair question. He was doing this out of love, dammit. "We were never like that," he said instead, not willing to be vulnerable. "It was convenient at the start. And now that you'll be far away, it's not convenient any more. So, that's it. I'm not giving you a choice. You'll be grateful soon." 

He watched Choromatsu seize a wad of tissues from the box and blow his nose sloppily, and then turn away and bolt out of the room without his shoes. 

Little brothers were so ungrateful. Choromatsu may not have thanked him for the gift properly, or at all, but the eldest knew that someday, he would. Doing something that felt awful for the sake of another was foreign, but Choromatsu had greater things ahead of him than to be his butt buddy forever. Going to college in America would be his one shot at finding someone to marry. Osomatsu wanted more than anything else to be the reason Choromatsu could find his happiness, even if he looked decidedly unhappy right now. He'd done the equivalent of ripping a hole in his own chest for this gift. 

Osomatsu was so generous. He was a good big brother, and this was no big deal. 

_ _ _

The first Matsuno son to get married had been Jyushimatsu to Homura, who eloped only two months after Choromatsu had left, and mysteriously cut contact. He'd eventually reconnected more than a year later, but things weren't the same. With two sons gone, the house had never been emptier.

A bit after that, Karamatsu and Totoko had announced their engagement and thrown the flashiest, sequin and fish themed idol concert wedding that had ever assaulted the eyes. Some might say they were compensating for the way Jyushimatsu’s disappearance had hurt the family. Osomatsu could still shake glitter out of the outfit he'd worn to that one. They lived somewhere up north now, he could never get the city name right. 

Now it was Choromatsu's turn, however many years later, and the whole green theme was a bit much. All the event hall was decked out in fabulous shades of emerald and lime that swirled together and clashed hideously with the bride's red hair, making the whole spectacle embody St Patrick's day. 

She was everything Osomatsu had hoped for in a bride for his favorite brother; her family was a bunch of inventors and former businessmen and doctors, she had a great sense of humor, she was college educated, she was gorgeous. Summer Smith was the fluorescent orange sunshine that the rainbow of brothers had always been missing. 

"This thing, so, it's in your ear, and now you're talking Japanese but it sounds like English, and I'm speaking English but it should sound like JaAAuuurp-Japanese to you. Hopefully. It's like that thing, you know, Hitchhiker's guide, the Babel fish, do you guys have that book over there? Hitchhiker's guide?"

"That's racist as hell dude," Ichimatsu said to the bride's grandfather.

"Not racist, xenophobic," Karamatsu supplied like this was helpful.

"What's racist? What's homophobic?" Todomatsu's scratchy voice echoed out of the laptop Karamatsu was ushering around. Having come down with coronavirus last minute, he'd been barred entry to America. There were tubes in his nose, to his great displeasure, but he still wore the jewel toned, color coordinated suit that matched his brothers'. He looked a little ridiculous in the hospital like that, but the coven of matching outfits was one nobody dared break on such an important day. 

"Well, now you bastards can tell when I'm being racist, you're welcome. Give Shinzo Abe my regards, tell him he's got nothing to worry about with that declining birth rate, you know, all things considering," he made a hand wave to encapsulate the sextuplets. 

"Rick! Don't make enemies before it even starts," Osomatsu's new brother-in-law grabbed the old man by the sleeve, and Rick allowed himself to be led away. "Shinzo Abe isn't even the Prime Minister any more." 

The Smith-Sanchez family was a little rowdy and dysfunctional, but the same could have been said about the Matsunos, and the one thing they all had in common was their love for getting blackout drunk. This was well underway by the time the bride and groom's first dance started, and Osomatsu looked on in horrified amusement when Summer's mother interrupted it to pile drive her ex-husband into the brownie table. Yes, surely they'd all have a happy future together, and Choromatsu would someday be blessed with six same gingers, a curse no man should have to bear.

Osomatsu was doing a remarkable job keeping it together. He sipped the straight whiskey in his glass and watched everyone dance like idiots, basking in warmth from both the occasion and the drink. Understanding American music with perfect clarity was kind of awesome, Achey Breaky Heart was at its best in its original form. He felt at home surrounded by conversation he only half paid attention to and science shit he did not understand at all. 

_Choromatsu was at the altar, with his face all pink and screwed up in nervous anticipation. It matched the expression he'd worn the first time Osomatsu had kissed him._

_Choromatsu was toasting happily at the reception. His face was jovial and tipsy, it matched the day he'd gotten his acceptance letter from the American branch of Dekapan's university._

_Choromatsu was weeping on his bride's shoulder. He was doing it out of joy, but the little silvery tears dripped down his face just like the time Osomatsu broke up with him._

Ichimatsu plopped down at the seat across from him. "You alright?"

Osomatsu hummed, and gulped the rest of his whiskey. The pain, at this point, had baked into his bones.

Ichimatsu whistled. "That bad, huh?" He gazed a little forlornly toward the dance floor, where Homura had Jyushimatsu wrapped around her like a pretzel as they waltzed. "Let's go smoke. Come on, I need some air." 

Outside, the weather was cool without being cold. This venue was right on the waterfront of some lake or river, and the freshwater breeze kissed their faces. Osomatsu wasn't even really sure what state they were in. They sat heavily on a concrete stairway, and lit up. The dull ember at the end of his cigarette was no match for the blinding light of the sunset reflecting off the water and the building's enormous windows. 

"Choro-chan is all grown up now," Osomatsu said, barely skimming the surface of his feelings.

"We're in our thirties," Ichimatsu replied, blowing out a thick cloud. "We haven't grown in a long time. Now, we're just aging."

Osomatsu nodded, his head a boozy swirl of tobacco and mourning, but also of gratitude, and a real sense of closure. 

He smoked, and he sat, and he aged.


End file.
